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Updated: May 11, 2025
Following out the excellent scheme suggested by the prodigal son, he was brought by night to the quiet house in the Rue du Bercail; but chance ordered it that by so doing he ran straight into the wolf's jaws, as the saying goes. That evening Chesnel had been making arrangements to sell his connection to M. Lepressoir's head-clerk.
"My dear Chevalier, there is no need of such formalities to present a d'Esgrignon at court," the Marquis broke in. "A hundred thousand livres," he muttered; "this Chesnel makes very free. This is what comes of these accursed troubles. M. Chesnel protects my son. And now I must ask him.... No, sister, you must undertake this business.
He fancied that he could keep up princely state on such a sum. Next day he started on his journey. All the benedictions of the Collection of Antiquities went with him; he was kissed by the dowagers; good wishes were heaped on his head; his old father, his aunt, and Chesnel went with him out of the town, tears filling the eyes of all three.
By the time they reached home, Camusot had admitted the superiority of his partner in life, and appreciated his good fortune in belonging to her; which confession, doubtless, was the prelude of a blissful night. Chesnel met his foes in a body as they left du Croisier's house, and began to fear that du Croisier had gone to bed.
"Is there any hope of getting him away from that woman, that Duchess? Perhaps she leads him on." "He would not stick at a crime to be with her," said Chesnel, trying to pave the way to an intolerable thought by others less intolerable. "Crime," repeated Mlle. Armande.
"Now swear to me that you will declare before the examining magistrate that you received the money on that date," he said, when Mme. du Croisier had taken the notes and he held the receipt in his hand. "It will be a lie, will it not?" "Venial sin," said Chesnel. "I could not do it without consulting my director, M. l'Abbe Couturier."
There was a pause, a silence such as there falls at court when the King publicly reprimands a courtier. The old notary looked humble and contrite. "I am anxious about that boy, Chesnel," continued the Marquis in a kindly tone; "I should like to send him to Paris to serve His Majesty. Make arrangements with my sister for his suitable appearance at court. And we will settle accounts "
In 1805, M. de la Roche-Guyon, the oldest son of an ancient family which had previously intermarried with the d'Esgrignons, made proposals in form through Maitre Chesnel for Mlle. Marie Armande Clair d'Esgrignon. She declined to hear the notary. "You must have guessed before now that I am a mother, dear Chesnel," she said; she had just put her nephew, a fine little boy of five, to bed.
If she or her husband were threatened by the President, Mme. Camusot could threaten too, in her turn, to call the amateur gardener's attention to a scheme for carrying off the flower which he meant to transplant into his house. Chesnel had not penetrated, like Mme.
This flattering reception he owed to his name, he said, and partly, perhaps, to the Duchess as well. In short, he had made his appearance magnificently, and as befitted a d'Esgrignon. "Have you been at your old tricks, Chesnel?" asked the Marquis. Mlle. Armande made Chesnel an eager sign, dreadful to see. They understood each other.
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